


quiet

by thelocalmaniac



Series: we live[d] [1]
Category: It Lives (Visual Novels)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Fetishization of Asian culture(s), Fluff and Angst, Follows the events of Chapter 17, Just tying up loose ends, Light Angst, Marriage Proposal, Minor Injuries, Minor sexy times in the last chapter, Misgendering, Other, Post-Canon, Reference to character death, References to racism, Tokenization, lots of fluff, references to violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21928408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelocalmaniac/pseuds/thelocalmaniac
Summary: Amalia Vance survived their encounter with Richard Sutcliffe on the boat, but that is only part of the story.How will they tell Grandpa and Elliot that they were directly involved in murdering Robbie's father?
Relationships: Tom Sato & Main Character (It Lives Beneath), Tom Sato/Main Character (It Lives Beneath)
Series: we live[d] [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579267
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. you live beneath

**Author's Note:**

> The events and characters of the It Lives Anthology are not my own. All intellectual property belongs to Play Choices and the original authors.  
> My interpretation of the Main Character, Amalia, is my own.
> 
> This is just a follow-up after the events of It Lives Beneath, because I wanted more and I was deeply and incredibly afraid for my MC and the rest of the group.

Richard Sutcliffe was dead.

Amalia was certain of it. They had watched the boat sink, swimming far enough away that they wouldn't be caught by the suction of the ship Titanic-style (realistically the boat was too small for that, but they wanted to be careful anyway). Richard had screamed, struggled--he hadn't wanted to die, he had wanted to take his revenge, he was _deranged_ \--but he hadn't come up for air.

One minute, two. Five, maybe, perhaps.

He wasn't coming up.

Richard Sutcliffe was dead.

It was a nice night for swim, Amalia supposed, treading water. Though it had been two months since their grandmother, Josephine, had tried to murder all of them and then some, they felt more than just a twinge of fear at the darkness of the water, hating that they couldn't see underneath. What if Josephine was weakened, not dead? What if she was biding her time? What if--

A fish brushed their foot and, mind clouded with thoughts of Josephine Vance, they screamed _bloody murder_.

_Okay, okay, I have to get out of the lake. If nothing else, the bleeding is going to attract something and I will die out here._ Amalia looked around, unable to see land from any direction. They had been unconscious and in a coffin when Richard had brought them out here, drugged, to kill. _Was Elliot being gay really enough of a reason to try to murder me? Like, fuck, I'm just a kid with eighteen credits of a college degree, there was absolutely no reason for this. He was crazy, absolutely_ absurd-- Still cursing his name, they chose a random direction and started swimming. Their head was pounding but they couldn't stop now. They needed to get out of here. Amalia wondered how large this lake was.

_Of all the people Josephine could have killed, why couldn't it have been Richard Sutcliffe, too?_ Why Imogen's parents? They weren't good people, but they loved their daughter. Maybe not as much as they loved the Power, but even so. _Why them? Why Abe? Why try to go after Grandpa? Why did any of it have to be like this?_ Their strokes faltered as they felt the familiar raw ache in their chest. It shouldn't have had to be like this. More people should be alive. Josephine had long since left her humanity, and that couldn't have been helped by Amalia and their friends, but god did they wish that were different.

They swam for what felt like hours, swam until their arms and legs felt like lead. It was foggy on the expanse of the lake, so much so that Amalia didn't know they were near shore until their feet brushed the sandy bottom and they made a small, horrified noise of surprise before realizing that it was finally shallower. Swimming onward with a renewed burst of energy, they pushed until they felt rocks and sand, gasping as they dragged themselves onto the bank. There weren't any docks here, they noticed, meaning they weren't in the main beaches of town. If they had arrived in the bay they could have called for help. But this area looked uninhabited.

_I picked the wrong direction._

With a sob, Amalia laid on the ground, stomach rolling, and coughed up bile. _Guess I swallowed more lake water than I thought._ Too tired to roll away from it, they waited for their heartbeat to slow, blinking spots away from their vision. _If I pass out here, I could bleed out before anyone finds me._ Their dark curls were matted with blood from when Richard had hit them in the head with a _fucking fire extinguisher_ and their knuckles stung from the ripped skin. They couldn't tell how bad their head wound was, but their lack of knowledge was enough to worry them. Better safe than sorry. Groaning, Amalia pulled themself up from the ground, arms trembling under the weight. They felt weak and groggy, every movement making their muscles scream in protest, but dying here on the beach wasn't an option. At the very best they could sleep here and wake up bloody, sunburned, and dehydrated. No matter how they looked at it, getting off the beach was the best course of action. They limped into the darkness and with each step the walk got easier, legs remembering how to bear the weight of a human body again. Amalia felt around for their phone, unsurprised and overall underwhelmed to find out it wasn't in their pocket. They wondered if it was at their house or at the bottom of the lake.

They stumbled into the forest, surely making enough of a racket that any animal would try to avoid their lumbering mass. Hopefully none of the swamp-and-bone monsters would be around, though--they had picked a few stragglers off in the last few months, but that didn't mean that the Power, still alive and well to be tapped into, would not be producing more. Josephine may have become the Power's conduit and directed it, but this couldn't be the last time they would hear from it. _Danni and Parker were right. Writing the Power off now, after everything we know it can do, would be ignorant. Stupid. I am so, so stupid to think everything would be over so easily._ Then they wanted to laugh. _If this could be called_ easy _._

How many hours had they been out here? How many hours had they been unconscious?

Long enough that the moon was high in the sky--it had to be at least midnight, if not later. _Do Grandpa and Elliot know I'm missing? Do they have the police out looking for me? I know they can't officially file a missing person's report until forty-eight hours, but maybe Parker would consider this to be an extenuating circumstance to look for me anyway._ Amalia paused to lean against a tree, sore, chest tight with exhaustion. Every breath sent a stab of pain into their rib cage. _If I stop here, I won't want to move again. But I'm having trouble breathing. I am out of shape._ Lake water clung to their face and eyelashes like tears, and went they blinked they rolled down their face. They would kill for some water right now. They were too thirsty to even be hungry.

_I wish Richard had stolen me after I had heated up those fishsticks._

They chuckled, a watery, hollow sound. Amalia felt like crying, but they were too stressed, too anxious--any strong emotion would be absolutely too much right now. They couldn't manage to feel any of them.

Resolute, Amalia straightened up and pushed onward. They walked and trudged and tripped and hiked until the sun was rising in the sky. It was then that they noticed, at the bottom of a hill parallel to where they had been walking, a well-trodden path in the forest. With a soft noise of relief they moved down to walk it, slipping on wet leaves and sliding down most of the slope, but they were too busy being grateful to worry about being full of mud. Amalia followed the path until they saw a parking lot ahead of them--it was empty, but at least it meant that they could follow it to the road. With a desperate sob they made it to the asphalt, barely able to find purchase to stay upright, feet dragging with fatigue.

_Has anyone told Tom that I'm missing? Or Danni, Imogen, Parker? Does Elliot think his sibling is dead? Does Grandpa think he's lost another grandchild? Do they think I'm out partying? Has anyone found Richard's boat? Would I have been better off staying in the lake waiting for boaters to find me?_ Probably. But treading water for that many hours would have been exhausting. How long could somebody swim while bloodied before succumbing to their wounds?

Then, a follow-up thought: _Did I leave the oven door open? Did I burn our house down?_

The idea was ridiculous even then, and they laughed with increasing hysteria.

When they reached the road, they looked for a sign that would point them to Pine Springs. Naturally, because Amalia had shit luck, none of them did, but it was fifteen miles toward the nearest gas station. That sounded like a long way, but it was better than nothing. Wiping tears of frustration from their eyes they walked onward, pressing a hand to their head. The bleeding had lessened and way mostly dried now--head wounds always bleed a lot. Once, when they were little, Elliot had fallen off a swing and cracked his head open. Amalia had been scared shitless, but one visit to the ER and six stitches later everything had been fine. Elliot had bled a whole lot, though. The memory still gave Amalia the heebie-jeebies. _Maybe I wouldn't have died, then, if my head isn't bleeding anymore. I probably got a concussion though._ _Can you die from a concussion?_ Amalia could deal with cults and magic, but not brain injuries, apparently.

"--Hello? Miss?"

Somebody had pulled up alongside them at some point. Amalia was too tired to even be scared. They turned to look at the person in the car, seeing their reflection in the man's glasses. _The bags under my eyes are designer._ "I'm not a miss," they whispered. "Not a...girl."

The man clearly didn't think this was a good time to argue about this. "Sorry about that, kid. But did you hear anything I said? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not." Amalia stopped, started again, then shook their head. This was not the time for this. "Can I use your phone? How far am I from Pine Springs?"

He had rolled down his window to talk to them and was practically hanging out of it now. "Pine Springs? That's on the opposite side of the lake!" _I absolutely chose the wrong direction to swim. Fuck me._ "Kid, you're bleeding."

"Yeah, I've noticed. Can you get me to Pine Springs? Or somewhere close?"

"I'm going to take ya to a hospital, if anything, kid. You're _bleeding._ And either concussed or naturally slow." Amalia gave him a long-suffering look and he laughed. "Sorry, not sorry. C'mon." He unlocked the door and after some struggling with the handle, they hopped into the seat next to him. Sitting down after so long was a relief, and before they could even thank him, they had already fallen unconscious, slumping in their seat.

\--

When they woke up, they were in the hospital. Two nurses--or a doctor and a nurse, Amalia couldn't really tell--were talking near their bed. Groggily they reached out, trying to get their attention. One of them noticed and stopped talking, looking shocked. "You're awake! Do you know where you are?"

"No." Amalia's voice was so hoarse that they winced. They sounded like they'd died or something.

"Do you remember how old you are?"

Amalia hesitated. "Twenty...twenty-two."

"Your name?"

"Amalia Vance." Of course Richard hadn't grabbed their wallet to help anyone ID them. That would be too helpful for him. "Is my Grandpa here? My brother?"

But the doctor was shaking her head. "No, dear, we didn't know who you were. The man who dropped you off couldn't find your driver's license. We were hoping you'd be able to help us when you woke up." They took Amalia's outstretched hand, a small comfort, and smiled down at them. Amalia slowly relaxed. _I made it. I'm alive._ "Can we call someone for you?" With some obvious struggling, Amalia recounted the phone number of their little brother, because that was the only one they had memorized. Before the doctor could say anything else, though, Amalia was out like a light again.

_I made it._


	2. louder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grandpa and Elliot show up at the hospital. Amalia confesses to murder. Tom nearly has a conniption.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It Lives Beneath still doesn't belong to me.

"Amalia? Li? Hey, Gramps, I think she's waking up!"

There was a sound of scrambling and rustling, then two blurry shapes appeared in Amalia's vision. They groaned, eyelashes fluttering, slowly beginning to come back to life. The two blurry shapes began to garner features that looked pretty similar to-- "Elliot," they croaked. "Grandpa." The fight went out of them and Amalia closed their eyes, inhaling slowly, before their body began to stir.

Bad idea.

Amalia hissed as their body seized and spasmed, not having been moved in hours, gritting their teeth. Soon their limbs loosened and went limp and their eyes opened again, bright with unshed tears, and they stared unseeingly at the ceiling. Somebody was petting a hand over their head, patting down their ringlets, and weathered fingers stroked across their forehead and temples. Getting a grip, they turned to look at their Grandpa, a wobbly smile spreading across their face. "Thank you."

Grandpa smirked, but didn't remove his hand yet, thankfully. He and Elliot were both wearing the same things they had been wearing the last time Amalia had seen them; they were pale and worried, but clearly happy to see them. _They don't know that I murdered Richard Sutcliffe yet, then._ Amalia blinked away the wetness from their eyes. "We've been here for about a day. The staff here called Elliot, who called me, and we drove area. Your friends are in the hallway. They said only family could come and sit with you until you woke up and said otherwise."

They frowned. "They _are_ family," Amalia whispered, then coughed harshly. If it had been a day since their family had come, it must have been hours since they had spoken last.

"Not according to general hospital procedure." Grandpa replied.

Elliot took one of Amalia's hands and squeezed it, lower lip trembling, and Amalia suddenly hated themself with a passion. _I can't believe I almost put him through this again._ "I thought you were _gone_ , Li. I came home and the fridge was open, the oven was open, the box of fishsticks was on the floor. I tried calling you. I called and texted your friends, and _Tom_ , but nobody had heard anything. I knew something was wrong. I know you hadn't left." _I kne_ _w you hadn't left me_. The unspoken words made Amalia's throat close up. They clutched his hand tightly, and soon both Elliot and them were crying, unable to help themselves.

"I fought," Amalia said. "I tried to get back to you. Guess I went the wrong way."

Wiping angrily at his eyes, their brother asked, "What _happened_."

_I suppose there was no avoiding this conversation._ "I...." But they wished they could avoid it. Grandpa looked curious, so he clearly wasn't planning on interjecting or anything. Amalia gingerly sat up, ignoring the roll of their stomach or the way their head swam, and hunched over their legs until their belly settled. When they felt like it was safe to speak without throwing up, they tried to straighten their spine. "Richard. Richard Sutcliffe."

Grandpa whitened. Elliot shot upward like an arrow and leaned toward them, eyes wide. "He's _alive_?" Elliot breathed.

"Not anymore." Amalia coughed again, and Grandpa suddenly passed them a cup of water, remembering himself. The water was cool on their throat and made them feel immediately better, but their mouth still tasted like death. They must be really, really dehydrated. "He took me. Drugged me. Dumped me in the lake in a coffin." Their voice had become a snarl, and they watched Elliot flinch. Amalia took a moment to control their emotions, bottling them away for another day, and shot their brother an apologetic look. "I broke out of my handcuffs--"

" _Badass_ ," Elliot said. Grandpa nudged him, but Amalia grinned.

"You right. So I broke out of my handcuffs, punched my way through the coffin--" They inspected the white gauze bandaging both hands, having just noticed it. Their was gauze pressed to their head, too, probably where they'd been clobbered earlier. "--and got back on the boat." It had been stupid, but if they'd swam away and Richard had noticed, he would have just mowed them down in the boat. They would have died anyway. "He'd threatened me, and you, El. I had to make sure he couldn't do anything else. I wanted to bring him back with me, but he hit my head with a fire extinguisher. I don't know if I could have overpowered him. And who would believe me?" _What if the police couldn't get enough evidence to indict him? What if he took Robbie away? What if he killed Elliot? Grandpa? My friends? What if he came after me again?_ "I...he...."

They waited. But Amalia balked, not wanting to confess. _How do I tell them that I let him drown? That I killed him? That I watched him and felt nothing?_ Would Elliot look at them the same way again? Would any of them? For a moment Amalia wanted to cry, or immediately burst into flames, or _something_. But then Elliot had reached out and hugged them, hiding his face in the crook of their neck, and Amalia hugged him back. "You don't have to finish if you don't want to, you goober. It's fine. I'm just glad you're here."

"Richard got stuck and I let him drown," Amalia spat out all at once, surprising all three of them.

Grandpa's mouth formed into an 'o' of surprise. Elliot let go of them and stepped back, eyes wide. Amalia flushed hot with shame, ducking their head. Why were they ashamed, though? Richard got what was coming to them, and they had saved so many lives. This wasn't their fault. It wasn't anyone's fault but the Order. Head lifting, Amalia steeled their resolve, shrugging their shoulders. "It kept him from hitting me with the extinguisher again, and now he can't hurt anyone else." They looked at Elliot, then their Grandpa. "You can tell the police if you want." _I'm not sorry._

But Amalia's family exchanged glances, then smiled. "We're not telling the police. They didn't believe Parker and Danni about the cult and the Power, and they also wouldn't believe you were nearly murdered in a coffin. For the context of this situation, you were in a boat that sank and got turned around." Grandpa shrugged.

Amalia blinked. Then they grinned. "We'll need to refine that story to explain my bruised knuckles, but okay. ...Thanks." Elliot climbed onto their bed to hug them again, and for the first time in awhile Amalia felt like things would be better.

\--

The next time they woke up their family was gone. Tomoichi Sato was sitting in the visitor's chair this time, almost asleep. He looked like he hadn't been resting well, his black hair was disheveled, and his clothes had oil stains from work on them. He was still the prettiest person Amalia had ever seen. "Hey," they whispered, and Tom started, beginning to sit up in his chair, eyes wild. Amalia made a shushing sound and his gaze locked on them, relaxing immediately.

" _Amalia_ ," he said in an exhale, tension easing out of his posture. Then he stood and strode over to them, taking their face in his hands. "Can I kiss you?" he asked with more confidence than they had ever seen in him when they were able-bodied. Usually they always had to take the initiative and ask him for kisses. Breathlessly they nodded, struggling to sit up so it would be easier for him, and he pressed his lips to theirs. By his behavior they'd have expected him to be hungry and take, take, take, but he was tender, gentle, remembering that they had been through quite the ordeal. His mouth was soft and pliant, tongue gently mapping out Amalia's mouth, hands skimming down their sides and arms. He swallowed every pant, moan, and whimper, until they parted, cheeks pink, eyes large. Tom pressed a kiss to Amalia's forehead. "I'm so, so glad you're alive."

They laughed. "You and me both, Sato." Amalia pulled him down to kiss again, a smile curling at the corners of their mouth.

Tom sat down on the bed beside them and laid his head down on the pillow, body fitting against theirs perfectly, nuzzling into their shoulder. "Arthur told me what happened," he said, voice tight with pain. "I'm so sorry, I should never have left, I--"

Jaw dropping, Amalia clasped their hand over Tom's mouth, stunned. "I--what? What on earth are you apologizing for? You couldn't possibly have known this was going to happen! We all were waiting for Richard's body to turn up, there was no way we could have guessed. This is _absolutely_ not your fault." They rested their hand on his cheek, smoothing a thumb across his cheekbone. "I'll make you say it with me if you don't believe me."

Even though he was clearly worried about them, Tom smiled in a way that made Amalia want to kiss him again. "Okay, okay, okay. It's not my fault." Then his smile faded. "But he--you--he put you in a _coffin_."

"Yeah, I remember."

Tom huffed. "That's not what I--please, just let me freak out in peace." But he pressed closer to them anyway, seeking comfort and closeness, and Amalia drew him in. It was hard to believe that nearly forty-eight hours ago he had become their boyfriend and they had had hot, steamy sex in a shower, and then Amalia was subsequently nearly murdered, yet here they were. They leaned their forehead against his.

"Sorry, no can do. All the people who want to kill us are dead, and we might actually be safe for once. You're going back to school, I'm going back to school, and we're both going to be safe and happy and together." Some people fall apart during long distance, he had told them. But they wouldn't. "This should be the last time either of us'll be bandaged up, okay?" Tom smiled a little, watching them talk with open affection.

They’d been spending loads of time together, much of which consisted of more stress than either of them anticipated, but all the while he’d always been hypnotized by them. Perhaps because they always knew how to get him to laugh, breaking the quiet with their nimble fingers across his ribs. Perhaps it was the way their upper lip curved when they smiled, how softly their hand felt when it was laced with his, or how they made him feel safe no matter the situation. Regardless of the reason, which happened to be all of them, his only concern was keeping them out of trouble and making them happy.

Yet here they were, bandaged and bruised, spending most days sleeping because they had been on the brink of exhaustion, a weary sparkle in their eye, and he wished he could have done better. "I wish I had been there."

"I'm glad you weren't. He would have killed us both--I barely got away. I'm glad you're safe and here with me _now_." They watched him; Tom gave a weary nod and wrapped an arm around their shoulders, tugging them to his chest, and Amalia wound themselves around him. They had fallen hard for him, and it started with how genuine Tom was. He was just a normal dude who despite being attractive tripped over tool boxes when they asked if he was single. He had trauma he was fighting to recover from and make sure nobody else had to suffer the same fate. They had a lot they needed to work through but still wanted to help Amalia work through theirs. "I love you."

An interesting array of emotions passed over Tom's face from shock to hope to joy before settling on fondness. "I love you too," Tom told them, and Amalia allowed themself to get some rest again. They would have plenty of time to make up for lost time later.

\--

On the fourth day in the hospital they released Amalia Vance back into the wild. After they checked out at the front desk, their Grandpa walked them out to his car where Elliot and his boyfriend, Robbie, were sitting. One look at Amalia's brother and they knew that Robbie had not been told that they had casually watched his dad drown, and for once Amalia did not feel the urge to immediately tell him the truth. This time the truth was more painful. Richard had not been a good man, or a good father, but he had been Robbie's family. Leaving it as is would be better.

For now.

"Hey Robs! 'S like you're a part of the family now!" Amalia greeted him warmly, sliding into the front seat and buckling up as Grandpa began to drive them back to Pine Springs.

The boy offered a small, shy smile, the way he always did when he was offered any semblance of affection without having done anything to earn it, and said, "Is...that okay? It's good to see you, by the way."

Feeling irrationally emotional, Amalia nodded, smiling back at him from the rear view mirror. "Of course it is. You _are_ our family, and we love you."

Robbie flushed with pleasure. Elliot grinned, grabbed his hand, and said, "You're so embarrassing, Amalia."

"But you love me."

When they arrived at their house, Elliot and Robbie both gave them a hug before heading out for the day to spend some time together. Amalia spent some time catching up with Grandpa before heading up to their room to get some much needed rest. One of these days they would stop needing to sleep so often, but apparently that day wasn't today.


	3. ready to go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months pass. This time they actually do get a happy[er] ending.
> 
> Amalia is actively affectionate. Tom is awkward, but we love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It Lives Beneath continues to not be my personal work or story.

_One month_

Amalia was finally able to stop taking their medication. Tom had been with them every step of the way.

Summer would be over in one month, Robbie would leave to stay with his mother, Elliot would start school. _They_ would start school. Tom would leave Pine Springs, and so would they, and things would be different. Harder. They wouldn't be able to just show up in his dingy apartment and cuddle up with him. His barriers would come back up; he would be shy with his feelings and hesitant with his touches after so long apart, like at the beginning. Things would change, and probably not for the better.

They were terrified of everything they had gained leaving again.

At 2:00 AM on a Monday morning they took a kitchen scissors to their bathroom and cut off their hair. Then they had cried about it. Then they cleaned up the mess and started the day over.

Tom thought the hair was very "anime chic", which Amalia had laughed really hard about.

He had gone with them when they got the tips dyed blue, a rich neon, bright and popping, and he had practically ravaged them afterward.

Some changes were good.

\--

_Two months_

After a night out at a restaurant with Pine Spring's four personal mystery-busters, Tom and Amalia were walking home.

Something about tonight was intoxicating, their voice chiming in his ears as they dramatically told stories, their grip on his hand tightening as they got to the best parts. Something was different, he knew, and Tom was unable to tear his eyes from how they looked under the moonlight. Earth toned curls cascading down their back, full eyelashes and a smile that could put them in a trance. _They're so beautiful_ , he thought, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he laughed with the others.

He found himself entranced yet again, his breath growing shallow as he tried to push away his need for them. Instead it was a flood, drowning out the sounds of ‘wait,’ only able to run his eyes along the curve of their lips, neck, chest. How they looked in this dress, how they looked in everything including a hoodie and sweats. _God, they're beautiful. God, I need them._

Amalia turned to him, beaming, and said something he didn't catch.

"Huh?” Tom yanked himself back to reality, gulping hard as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I asked where you wanted to go next." Amalia stuffed their hand into his pocket, fingers filling the spaces between his. They pulled his out with theirs, sweetly kissing the top of it.

He smiled goofily at them. They met his lips with a kiss that caused an earthquake in his heart, breath quickening as his knees grew increasingly weak.

When Tom wakes up in bed the next day he is covered with lipstick imprints and a few hickeys, but Amalia is pressed to his side and he feels like, maybe, this is healing.

\--

_Three months_

Tom and Amalia finish their first month at college. They visited each other every weekend, since their schools weren't far apart. That--and there was nobody they could tell about the Power, about nearly dying, about being possessed, about being kidnapped and practically sacrificed by a cult, _none_ of it. They relied heavily on each other, and it was an important part of their coping.

It also meant that they had plenty of time to nourish and grow their relationship.

As Amalia had suspected, the longer they spent away from Tom, the more he relapsed into his bashful self, the self who felt like he was undeserving of a relationship with somebody like them, the self who couldn't believe it when Amalia wanted him, who was shy after every bit of praise and every touch.

“It’s okay. Look at me, honey.”

He did, taking a slow breath, smiling in the reflection of the stars and distant window lights in their eyes. _Honey_ , like their shampoo, like his name on their lips, and the bronze flecks in their irises.

Suddenly, their hands are on either side of his face, lips moving with his like a million moments of build up colliding, his fingers molded to their hips like magnets and the swell of pure desire swirling between them.

Amalia kissed him hard, like a tidal wave and the sway of a skyscraper, his lips are gentle like the flicker of a flame. Goosebumps scattered across his whole body and their mouth followed them, memorizing the expanse of his skin. Afterward, when they laid together like they had that day after the shower, with him as the little spoon and Amalia holding him closely, warmly, lovingly, they whispered, "Hey. Hey, you. I'm in love with you." and he felt suddenly energized, suddenly brave. Something in him believed them this time.

\--

_Four months_

Amalia has bad nightmares and considers dropping out of school, but Tom tries to convince them to stay. They fight. Amalia says angry things, terrible things, talking about how he doesn't understand being nearly murdered, having his family _murdered_ , having his family targeted again and again, and Tom is hurt.

"I can't _help_ those things. But I do understand where you're from, and where you're going to. And you're stronger than this."

Like most of their fights, it ends with kisses and apologies, and they make up. Amalia has a fiery temper and, usually, they need to do the most apologizing.

They have a three day weekend coming up and Amalia goes to stay over at Tom's place for his birthday. He tells them about his ex-girlfriend with a fetish for Japanese culture who called him sempai and is relieved when they are appropriately aghast. He asks if they'll call him Tomoichi. Tom is just a palatable name for white folk, but it's not his _name_.

When Amalia agrees, he swears to himself that one day he will marry this person.

\--

_Five months_

They talk about their dreams a lot. Amalia talks about their parents, and then what they want in a home. "I want a home mostly just to welcome people into it," they said to him after video games turned into sex. His head was pillowed in their lap and they were playing with his hair, fingernails scratching lightly at his scalp, and if he wasn't so riveted by their words, Tomoichi was certain he would have fallen asleep. "There will be bowls of candy for guests, and the cookie jar is full. I’ll always say 'I was just about to make a coffee/tea/cocoa, would you like one?' when somebody walks in." Their voice is soft and hopeful. "There’s lemonade and iced tea made fresh on hot days. Once it hits 'That Hour' and they start saying they really should be going, I’ll remind them that the futon is always open, and I’m making cinnamon rolls tomorrow. There’s champagne and sparkling juice hidden on a high shelf just in case somebody announces their engagement or their pregnancy or their new job while they’re here. There is an extra chair in the living room, at the table, and on the deck, and it’s for you. I want to be able to say 'if you’re ever in trouble, come to me.' Y'know?"

Tomoichi nods, because it reminds him of Andy and Andy's family. His house had always felt like that.

Amalia smiles and leans over him for a kiss. "My parents' house always felt like that. It felt like a home to me, to Elliot, to our friends. They made sure it always would. I want to have a home like that."

"We will," Tomoichi says, and grins when Amalia does.

\--

_Six months_

Exams are coming up and they don't get a chance to see each other for nearly three weeks to make sure their grades don't suffer. They make up for this with video chat and texting, but it's not the same, and they miss each other terribly.

Tomoichi receives a care package from Amalia (homemade cookies, lotion from a store they had introduced him for called LUSH that is sustainable and rooted in grassroots activism that they now both adore, a clothing refresher spray for when he doesn't have time to do laundry, a bunch of candles, a weighted blanket, and a ton of woolen socks) and rushes out to the grocery story to buy one in return. The whole time he can't stop grinning.

When the first semester is done they reconvene back in Pine Springs for break to visit with the mystery buster team as well as Amalia's family. They spend a lot of time teaching the aforementioned parties how to say Tomoichi's actual name because, if he means anything to them, they will learn how to say it. It takes awhile to remember, but they get it down. Grandpa took the longest. "It's because he's a hundred years old. He'll get it," Amalia told him as an apology, and they were right. Eventually Arthur greeted him each morning with, "Hey, Tomoichi." He didn't usually get it right on the first try, but he did it nonetheless.

Tomoichi had never felt so loved.

Most importantly, though, is that they don't spend a single night outside of each other's beds and arms.

\--

_Seven months_

They go back to school in two weeks and they are dreading it. Tomoichi and Amalia do all of their back-to-school shopping together.

They exchanged gifts on the winter solstice, a holiday-neutral time of year (it was Amalia's idea, and Tomoichi had laughed his _ass_ off about it). Tomoichi buys them a white noise machine to help them get to sleep and stay asleep, and Amalia gets him an essential oil diffuser for his room since he doesn't clean it often enough and gets allergic reactions to the dust mites and dandruff. When they exchange their gifts, they both proclaim that they know each other too well.

At night, Amalia likes to snuggle Tomoichi from behind and tells him how he’s the biggest doofus they've ever met and that he’s the love of their life. Tomoichi’s grin grows wider every time he hears it.

When they're back at school they are both surprised to find that the people they'd met there had missed them. They make a pact to spend more time building these new relationships instead of visiting each other.

Their new schedule includes biweekly visits instead of weekly visits.

\--

_Eight months_

"Okay so fuck marry kill with Spongebob, Patrick, Squidward. Go."

Amalia was so ready for this. "Well obviously, I’m gonna kill Squidward because calamari’s good."

Danni choked. "Wha--don't vore Squidward!"

"Listen, I’m not done yet. I--"

Parker and Tomoichi were giggling, and the former had his head in his hands.

 **"** Shut up, listen. I--" Amalia burst out laughing, then started again. "Obviously, I’m gonna fuck Patrick because if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that the dumb ones pound the hardest, honey!" They ground their fist into their palm. At this point Danni, Tomoichi, and Parker were all dying of laughter. Imogen looked horrified. "And finally, marry Spongebob because the man has _obviously_ got his shit together. I mean, a full library? I want some of that fuckin' sugar, daddy!

"I will pay you to never call SpongeBob 'daddy' every again," Imogen informed them.

"No promises," Amalia replied, and high-fived Tomoichi. The other three groaned.

It was Parker's birthday and since Tomoichi and Amalia weren't able to get out of school to visit him, the mystery buster's squad had all come down to see them! Tomoichi had his own apartment, unlike Amalia, so they were all crammed in there. They drank and danced and then passed out on various furniture, and for the first time in a long time, Amalia felt whole.

\--

_Nine months_

"I think I was touch-starved before I met you," Tomoichi confessed one night, head pillowed on his partner's stomach. Amalia had an exam the following Monday and had been studying, so he had spent most of the weekend keeping them company, quizzing them, and making them food. And the cuddling. That was alright though because he _loved_ cuddling. Especially when they fell asleep cuddling--he loved that they felt safe and content enough with him to do just that.

"Oh?" Amalia put their textbook down and stretched before burrowing their hands in his hair. Surprisingly, Tomoichi loved having his hair played with, in and out of the bedroom. "How so?"

Pulling himself up so he could look at Amalia more directly, he tried to explain, blushing as he did. "W-well--" He hadn't expected them to ask, but they wanted to know everything about him so he didn't know why he was so surprised! "--I guess that the people I spent time with before were mainly dude bros. Even Andy, even though he's, like, my best friend in the whole world. We don't really _hug_ or _touch_ too often. Just not the way we were raised, I guess? And Asian parents aren't really affectionate with their parents. It's kind of a thing." His eyes were focused on Amalia, wide and glistening. "But now? Before you I might've gone weeks and months at a time without so much as a pat on the back. That's almost unimaginable." They are constantly hugging him, holding him, even just touching him casually. He craves it, craves their hands in his hair, on his face, everywhere. It's almost as if they could tell long before he could.

Amalia let out a wet-sounding huff. "Why are boys so bad at loving on each other?" they asked, drawing him in so they could hold him. Earlier in their relationship they kissed all the time, and though they still did a lot of smooching now, it was often beat out by hugging. Even more than desire there was love, _warmth_. They were hardly ever out of each others arms when they were visiting. "I bet if you asked Andy for a _really_ good hug, he'd give you one."

Tomoichi smiled. "I think you're probably right. I could take a leaf out of your book and just be direct with him."

Amalia snickered, pressing a fond kiss to his temple. "Yeah, that usually works for me."

\--

_Ten months_

They both work hard to make sure they're at happy and healthy places as often as they could be. It’s a long road but they love each other dearly. 

It can be harder for Tomoichi because he hasn’t ever really cared for anyone like he cares for Amalia. He loves it. It terrifies him.

But pretty soon they know how to comfort him when he's sad, make him feel loved when he's feeling lonely, or just exist together when he's not feeling anything particularly strongly. That terrifies him almost just as much.

It also makes him happy, though. That there was somebody who wanted to know him that much.

He could probably stay here forever. Amalia, sweet, way-too-small-for-this Amalia is pressed lovingly against his back, one arm pulled tight around his waist, securing him to their chest. Their free hand is stroking through his hair lazily, almost petting him, and it's almost enough to make him purr with content. It probably would be, if not for the fact that this whole situation kinda makes him wanna cry out of realization that he has been way too neglected for way too long. "Please never let go of me ever again." It was supposed to be a joke, but it fell flat when his voice cracked.

Amalia didn't comment on it, just held him more tightly, nose burrowing into the back of his shoulder. "Never, Tomoichi. You're never leaving this bed."

\--

_Eleven months_

It was the weekend before exams started, and yet Andy Kang and Tomoichi had driven up together and were crashing in Amalia's dorm. Amalia's roommate, Engel, had gone home for the weekend, so naturally they had told Tomoichi. They hadn't expected a third wheel and honestly? They were delighted.

The three started out by playing video games as Tomoichi bragged about the two times that Amalia had beaten him before they had started dating. Andy rolled his eyes. "Holy _fuck_ , dude. You got your ass _whooped_. I've never seen you like this over some chick."

"Not a chick," Amalia and Tomoichi chorused, releasing their controllers with one hand each to bump fists. Andy laughed about how in sync they were for a long time.

They stayed up talking about the Power, about nearly dying, about Noah (Avery had finally come clean to the Westchester gang about the newest Redfield incarnation still being around, and it had gone as smoothly as it possibly could have), about college, about being at school with _normal_ people. Andy was easy to talk to and Amalia had never seen Tomoichi so at ease with somebody who wasn't _them_ , honestly. It was a relief to see that he could be.

Somehow Tomoichi was the one who fell asleep first, face buried into Amalia's sweatshirt, while they finished off the rest of a tub of Cookies & Cream ice cream they had brought out to share. The blue in their hair was fading, Amalia noted in the silence. Finally, Andy spoke. "You've been calling him Tomoichi all night," he commented. "I've _never_ heard a white person get his name right."

Amalia blinked, startled. "Er--yeah. He said it was important to him. He...he told me about his first partner, his girlfriend." Amalia scrunched up their nose in distaste, mirroring Andy's immediate expression. They both laughed. "And he's important to me. It's a name worth knowing."

Andy studied them for a moment, then smiled. "I wish we'd known you back in high school. We could have used somebody who was white and not shitty."

"We are, generally, pretty shitty," Amalia agreed before smiling back. "Look, I know you're not Tomoichi's dad or anything, but...I guess what I'm asking about is if it's okay with you that we're dating?" It was important to them that they had Andy's okay on this. It may not change anything if he said no, but Tomoichi and Andy were alive because of the other, and it mattered to Amalia that Andy approved of them.

Andy Kang seemed shocked at the question. Then he relaxed, studying his best friend's partner warmly. "Yeah, it's cool with me. I think we're going to be friends."

Amalia grinned. "I would _love_ to be friends."

\--

_Twelve months_

Pine Springs was a lot quieter with them gone, but even now that they were back, things were quiet. Elliot and Robbie were happy to see each other every day again and Amalia rarely saw them. It sounds like Elliot had made some other friends at school, thought it had taken him some time. Grandpa had an issue with his liver a month ago, but he was doing better now. Danni was still loving her job as a photo journalist, Parker had nipped crime in their small town in the bud, Imogen had bought a dog and a cat to live in her apartment downtown, and life moved on.

Most of the changes began and ended with Tomoichi and Amalia, it seemed.

"Do you want to move in together after college? It's totally okay if you don't, absolutely peachy-keen, but I wanted to ask, to put it out there, because I like you a lot and I think we're supposed to be together, but you're staring at me now and it feels super weird, and I don't like being analyzed, so I'm taking the offer back now, and--" Tomoichi was cut off when Amalia pressed a finger to his lips, grinning like an idiot.

"Tomoichi? _Tom_. Tomoichi, get a grip--" When they had his attention, Amalia laughed, giddy, taking his hands in their own. "Yes. I'd like that. I mean, we should absolutely see where we're at by the time we reach the end of college, but yes. I want to live with you and spend the rest of my life with you. Which seems like a lot, and I know we're young, but...." Amalia shrugged. "It doesn't make it less true." They had both needed to grow up fast, and for different reasons, but it had brought them together. They had grown together. "So, let's plan on moving in together." At first Tomoichi had been stunned, then overjoyed, picking them up to spin them around. They were both laughing raucously by the time he had set them down and fused their lips together.

The summer went fast, and nothing too eventful happened. The Power was at peace, and so were the citizens of Pine Springs.

Avery came to visit them a few times, talking about the task force they were putting together to figure out what made the Power tick. Amalia had mixed feelings about it, but Tomoichi had been willing to share as much information as he had. Afterward, when he had asked Amalia about it, they had said, "You're always so willing to set aside your life to help people, and I love you for it. I just wish you would spend some more time on yourself, too." He kissed them after that.

With Amalia looking after him, he was certain he'd never have to spend another day alone in his life.


	4. aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tomoichi and Amalia take the next step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters and story of Play Choices It Lives Beneath are still not mine!

_Three years and forty-two days_

Their apartment was finally looking like a home. Danni, Imogen, Parker, Andy, Elliot, Robbie, and Amalia's Grandpa had come to their housewarming party the day before and they had all caught up. They had graduated, Amalia had switched majors twice and somehow, someway graduated (mostly) on time, Tomoichi had landed a job immediately after college, and Amalia was still looking. In the meantime, however, they had been spending a lot of time nannying to make sure they paid their portion of the bills. They knew it wouldn't matter to their boyfriend, but it mattered to them that he didn't have to worry about the money, too.

Avery stopped over and dropped off a few books of runes for Tomoichi to study. Though he had been at work, Amalia had made them both tea and sat the other down to catch up. Apparently Avery and their boyfriend, Lucas, had briefly broken up after they had told the others about Noah for a bit, but were working things out again now. After all of this time Avery was still the only one who knew how to help him navigate the things he wanted versus the things other people wanted for him, and he had come back to them. For now they were trying things out.

Amalia stirred a spoon in their tea thoughtfully. "It kind of sounds like he wants something from you. Are you sure you're cool with this?"

But Avery had nodded, smiling, running a hand through their shock-blonde hair. "Yeah, 'm sure. Like, not that I'm not enough on my own, but I've missed his company. He makes me want to be better, and do better. Put good things into the world. I kind of lost sight of that for awhile, I think, but now that I'm not keeping this secret anymore...things are different, I guess. I can be different. I guess you forget how to be you when you are protecting other people. Or yourself."

After some consideration, Amalia nodded. It made sense. The person who had watched Richard Sutcliffe die was very different than the person to did funny voices to cheer Tomoichi up when he had a bad day, and it was an important distinction. "You're right." They took a sip of their tea. "Does he make you happy?"

" _Yes_ ," Avery replied vehemently, and Amalia smiled.

"Then it's the right choice." They exchanged a knowing look, then Avery chuckled and stood, declaring they had to get going. Amalia walked them out, watching out the window until they had disappeared down the block.

Not even thirty minutes later did Tomoichi come back from work. He'd landed an _amazing_ job as a game designer for a local company--it was small, but it was a good way to get his foot in the door in a competitive industry like this one. It was fast-paced and he enjoyed his coworkers, and seemed to be having a blast in general. Amalia was happy for him. When they heard the door open they brightened considerably, putting the rest of the dishes aside and drying their hands on the nearest towel. Then they ran like a madman over to their boyfriend.

" _TOM-OI-CHI!_ " Amalia shouted out gleefully before jumping into his arms. He caught them with a quiet "oof" before laughing, burying his face into their hair as he walked them back into the apartment. "Hi! How was work? I missed you!"

"I missed you, too," he replied, catching their mouth in a kiss. Sometimes he still couldn't believe that he got to have all this, this home and this job and this person who inexplicably _loved_ him and _wanted_ him. Then he felt their mouth on his and felt their thighs so forgiving in his hands and felt their fingers coursing through his hair like they belonged there and he remembered. When they parted, panting and happy, he answered their question. "Work was...busy. This is my dream job, but also? I don't dream of capitalism. Let's revolt."

"Hm, love it. Let's call the others. We strike at dawn." Amalia kissed him again soundly, reverently, cradling his face in their hands in a remarkably tender gesture that coerced a small, adoring sound from Tomoichi's throat, and then he was carrying them to the couch. If they want to touch him, then by all means _touch him_. Each time Amalia kissed him his skin blushed a delicious crimson. For with every renewed flush, his skin blossoms beautifully, plump lips drawn between his teeth, brown gaze flickering shut. _He’s beautiful,_ so _beautiful. It’d be a sin not to tell him, tell the world, at every chance presented to them_."I love you," Amalia breathed against his mouth. If he could, he’d listen to them on repeat, a little symphony that’d play through his head. _“I love you, I love you, I love you.”_ A sonnet made just for him _._

Soon they were both shedding layers and he kissed every stardust freckle on their chest and they were pumping him shallowly in their hand and he was bucking up to meet them. Tomoichi had, as Amalia lovingly called it, 'big bottom energy', but once in awhile, if he was turned on enough, that changed and he would take charge. Amalia was always _so_ down for that. They loved seeing Tomoichi brave and sure enough of himself to take control of a situation.

As the years went by, he got better and better at it.

They sank their teeth into his collarbone and he twitched, gasping. Oh. How _bold_. Two could play at that game. Grinning wildly, he bent his head down, downright boastful when pleas and whispers of encouragement fell from his partner's lips.

When all was said and done Tomoichi was laying on Amalia's chest, tracing his fingers around one of their pert nipples, watching goosebumps come and go in small bursts across their porcelain skin, and he felt a surge of warmth in his chest. "The true meaning of Crouching Tom, Hidden Whoopass," they said airily and Tomoichi choked. Soon they were both laughing so hard that Amalia was in tears and Tomoichi had nearly peed his pants. They took some time to giggle and wipe tears from the corners of their eyes; every couple of seconds they would burst into peals of giggles again. It took several minutes to settle down--by this time both of their faces were red and splotchy.

"I love you, Li," he murmured against their skin, following this up with a kiss to their shoulder. Amalia released a _godawful_ giggle that sent blood down to his cock, and suddenly he felt like he could go for another round. (He couldn't.)

"Love you too, doofus. What's one good thing that happened today?" Amalia interlocked their fingers, bringing them to their lips to kiss.

Tomoichi considered this, resting his head against Amalia's sternum. "Hm, let's see...." Amalia did this after work almost every day--'What's one good thing that happened today?' 'What's one interesting fact you learned today?' 'What's one thing that would make today easier or better for you?' and then, depending on his answer, they would either ask more questions about whatever he had talked about, or they would go out of their way to one-up it. They always did everything in their power to make sure that neither of them would go to bed mad. "One of my coworkers brought pizza from a cute place a few blocks from us. Us as in work, I mean. It's a stone-fire place where you get to pick the toppings and they cook it fresh. Personalized pizzas. I really liked mine. I'll have to bring you there sometime."

He kissed them. Amalia hummed happily, eyes fluttering shut.

"I don't suppose you'll be hungry in time for dinner then, huh?"

"I am _always_ hungry for your cooking, honey. Absolutely always." Tomoichi pecked them on the lips and then got himself to a stand, preening when Amalia openly checked him out. Though he was still shy sometimes when they were too aggressively horny for him, he had come to realize that he was, indeed, a hot piece of ass. He was quicker to accept and reciprocate compliments and, after being introduced to lingerie night at the monthly Rocky Horror Picture Show showings at the local theater, he had become _quite_ fond at modeling his ass off for the world (Amalia) to see. It was a nice change, and one that had happened entirely because Tom learned to be comfortable with his partner. He trusted that if they did not want him, they would not be here. By now, though, he was certain that they _did_ indeed want him, and Amalia was insistent on showing him all of the time. Grinning with pride, he headed to their bedroom to change into a t-shirt and sweatpants while Amalia reassembled themself, picking up his work clothes to dump in their laundry hamper. It was going to be a good day, they could tell.

And, they added, taking a small, velvet box out of the pocket of their jacket on the floor, it made them hopeful that he would be in an agreeable mood later.

Tomoichi Sato had put himself out on a line several times during their relationship--to ask them out, to ask if they could be in a formal relationship, to move in together. He was always concerned about the labels, while Amalia took the steps forward in regards to their intimacy, asking for touches, kisses, the whole nine yards. This time Amalia wanted to make things official and seal the deal. They wanted this. Tomoichi understood things better through actions than anything else. Amalia would make sure that they wouldn't be misunderstood.

Their boyfriend eventually returned in his 'comfy clothes', looking infinitely happier now that he was at home, and moved to pour himself a glass of red wine. "Want some?" he asked without looking at them, knowing that if they got distracted when cooking, things tended to get burned. Somehow.

"Sure!"

Getting ready for dinner, or bed, or to leave for the day is an easy routine now. They've spent so long in each others' space that they navigate it without thinking. Eventually Tomoichi settles heavily on one of the chairs at their table, exhaustion sinking his shoulders down. "We made it!" he cheered. This was good--all of this. Just getting to spend his days in Amalia's company was a blessing. And what more could he want? For this is all he ever longed for, and as far as he was concerned, these were stolen moments granted on borrowed time.

He was grateful for each and every one of them.

How could he ask for more?

They talked the rest of the night, swapping stories in hushed tones--about their families, growing up, their hopes and fears for the future, because they had space to do that now, a space of their own, _finally_ \--and continued over dinner. Amalia sat crisscross-applesauce on their chair and he made fun of them for it, like he did most nights, and they bickered back and forth until they were both cracking up. The first time he had seen them eat like that he had _snorted_ and teased them endlessly, but considering _he_ didn't let any of his food touch, Amalia wasn't really interested in his criticisms.

As he did every night Amalia cooked, Tomoichi washed the dishes, singing the entire time. Unlike Amalia, he had the voice of an _angel._ (It had been an amazing gift to discover--he had been singing in the shower and when Amalia had heard him belting, they had nearly broken down the door to hear him better. He had been embarrassed but pleased.) Singing along under their breath, they wiped crumbs off the table, dancing mindlessly to his tune. They lingered in the kitchen until he was done, wishing they had a better plan for a proposal than this, than just waiting for it to come up organically. Would it _ever_ come up if they waited for that to happen?

He dried his hands and crossed the room to them. "Did you need something, or were you just staring at my ass?"

Amalia slipped their arm into his, eyes gleaming. "Definitely just staring at your ass." They nestled their face into his shoulder, taking comfort in the familiarity of the action, letting out a pleased noise when he leaned his head into their own. After a few moments in which they drew courage from him, they said, "Want to cuddle?"

Tomoichi beamed. "Snuggling is one of my _favorite_ activities," he informed them, as if this wasn't a fact of life that they already knew, and then scooped them up in his arms and fucking _ran_ to the bedroom. Amalia shrieked bloody murder, but they were both laughing when they tripped and went sprawling in the bed. Giggles muffled in the blankets, they arranged themselves until he was the little spoon and they were curled around him, a loose arm draped across his middle, head perched in the crook of his shoulder. They had realized that Tomoichi _very_ much appreciated being the little spoon--it made him feel safe, wanted, and warm, as he had explained to them. Amalia was always willing to oblige. He was game to switch roles whenever they wanted, anyway. They laid there, comfortably silent at first, and Tomoichi felt all remaining tension in his body ebb.

He could recall a time where he never thought anything like this would be possible. A time where every moment together felt like a gift and every kiss was thought to be the last. 

Yet, whether it be through sheer luck or some divine intervention, here they were. Nestled in his arms, blinking the sleep from their eyes, all the time in the world. 

And he lost himself in it, the simplicity of it all. So warm and tantalizing. No one warned him that the only siren’s song more alluring than video games were was that of domestication. He’d happily succumb to it, so long as Amalia was the one singing it. In the mornings when they thread their fingers through his hair and ask him what he’d like to do today, he can’t help but sigh. 

Sheer _bliss_.

As he released a breath he was holding and began melting into the drowsy heat they had created on their bed, Amalia lifted their head determinedly. There were so many times on their journey where they could have lost their ways, but they didn't. Suddenly Amalia didn't want to wait anymore. "Tomoichi Sato, would you, er, consider marrying me?"

There was a pause and a moment of silence. Then Tom stuck his finger in his ear and twisted it, sitting up so quickly that Amalia tumbled backward with a yelp of surprise. "Sorry, I just hallucinated, my bad. Can you repeat what you said?" But by the way he was staring at them, eyes wide and glistening, lips parted, something between fear and hope on his face, Amalia was pretty sure he just didn't want to be wrong. His posture screamed shyness, but even so he didn't look away.

So Amalia steeled their nerve, slipped the small box out of their pocket, and opened it with just as much shyness. But now they were smiling, endlessly endeared by him. "You heard me." The second time they had said that to him, the first being when they had said that they were in love with him, too. Tomoichi doubted most good things that came his way. Amalia hoped he wouldn't doubt this.

"..Yes, I--are you sure I'm not hallucinating?" Tomoichi asked, eyes watering when Amalia smiled, slow and uncertain and full of wonder, and reached out for his hand, slipping the ring onto his finger with precision and care. He stared at the ring, and then sniffed. "I can't believe this is happening."

"Not unless we're both hallucinating. But is it such a surprise? We _made_ it. Through _everything_. Honestly, I don't know what else to say right now? _I love you too, I want to see the world with you, I want to have a life with you, I want yo--_ " and then Tomoichi was in their arms and they were kissing, and he was saying _yes yes yes_ or maybe he was just chanting it in his head but it didn't matter. Nothing he said would ever be enough to convey how happy and _grateful_ he was.

When they broke apart they were both beaming, flushed pink with their eyes shining, unable to stop _touching_ each other, but that was okay with Tomoichi because he was pretty sure he was never going to let them go again. "I want that, too. All of that. With you, Amalia." He laughed, a watery sound. Was he crying? He was crying. "God, how do you always make me cry?" Amalia kissed his tears away with a patience and care he had come to know and expect from them, and he was warmed to his core. "..Guess we, uh, have to plan a wedding now, huh?"

Amalia hummed their assent. "We could always let Imogen plan our wedding."

"Li, we are _not_ letting Imogen plan our wedding."


End file.
